


Incentive

by Cardinal_Daughter



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Romance, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 07:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardinal_Daughter/pseuds/Cardinal_Daughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can give her anything, but all she wants is him. Oneshot. Rumbelle. Takes place before and during the first FTL scene in Skin Deep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incentive

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place before and during the first FTL scene in Skin Deep (where Belle agrees to go with Rumplestiltskin.) This story explores 'what if' Belle and Rumplestiltskin knew/fell in love with each other before they made their deal.
> 
> Also, Rumplestiltskin and Belle still share True Love, but the effects of the kiss do not apply within this story. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time.

They met on a warm summer’s night, completely by accident.

Rumplestiltskin wandered around the outskirts of Avonlea, reluctant to leave. He’d come to make a deal with a merchant who was concerned for his family and the Ogres that were gaining strength and numbers. Rumplestiltskin remembered the Ogre Wars of his youth all too well. A small part of him, the part that was still the young spinner, wished to help these people. 

The dealmaker knew he could only help them for a price. 

He pulled his hood over his face and decided to meander through the marketplace for a while. He had no desire to return to the Dark Castle with its countless empty rooms and deafening silence. No one graced those halls except himself and the occasional desperate soul, and the thought of sitting in the loneliness of his home held little appeal. So he stayed and perused the varying stalls set up along the square. Despite the setting sun, it was a busy place, villagers haggling over prices, making trades, and trying to summon passersby to come see their wares. The place was crowded with people, but with his cloak, old and dusty and patched up in places, he blended in perfectly. No one noticed him and he found he preferred it that way. 

Finally, Rumplestiltskin tired of being surrounded by so many people and made his way out of the market square and wandered toward the forest that sat adjacent to the castle. He’d never been inside the palace of Avonlea – no Lord from this land had ever called on him for help – but he admired the simplistic beauty of the outer walls. Avonlea was not known for its grandeur. They were a small but strong land that tended to keep to itself. They were rarely involved in foreign politics and they had few allies and did not dabble in the selfish affairs that were typical of people in their station. Rumple found he admired them for that quality. Other than their desire to keep to themselves, all he knew about the rulers of Avonlea was that the Lord’s name was Maurice and he had one child, the Lady Belle. He’d never encountered either of them, but he was aware of the tales of Belle’s loveliness - and strangeness. 

The sun was setting behind the mountains in the distance, and he stopped in his tracks to simply enjoy the simplicity of it all. It’d been many a year since he’d properly enjoyed a sunset, his days as a poor spinner turning into a hectic whirlwind of magic and deals and searching for his son.  
His son would have enjoyed this place. 

He stood for a long time watching the sun sink past the mountains, another day gone. His days bled together now and he truly could not remember the last time he’d been aware of the passing of time. It was so inconsequential to him now. He did not know how long it had been since he’d last seen his boy’s face, but he knew that if he counted the days – months, years, and centuries – that he would surely lose himself in his grief. It would be a reminder that surely his son was dead; but Rumple would not allow that thought to take hold. Until he held his son’s body in his arms he would refuse to believe the boy was anything but alive. 

He was shaken from his revere by the sound of a twig snapping and fabric rustling somewhere to his right. There was no one in the immediate vicinity, but his sight and hearing – both strong and sensitive due to the magic that flowed through him – caught the movement with ease. He stood still, curious to see who or what was making its way toward him and he balled his hand into a fist, forming a ball of pure magic to throw just in case it was someone who meant harm. 

Finally, a petite figure came out of the woods, hood drawn over her eyes. She was looking down at something in her hands and Rumplestiltskin realized she was reading. He allowed the magic at his side to dissipate but he remained still, wondering if the girl would notice him or pass by without so much as a glance. She continued to approach and then paused, finally noticing she was not alone, looked up and let out a startled gasp, her book slipping from her hands and falling into a small puddle of mud. 

She groaned and immediately bent down to pick up the book, no longer concerned for the stranger standing in front of her. He could tell from her glum expression that the book was ruined but she wiped the filth from the pages anyway, sighing as she did so. 

Without thinking, he reached forward and waved his hand over the book, making the mud and dirt vanish and restoring the book to its previous state. She glanced up at him with shock. 

“Th-Thank you,” she stuttered in awe. 

He waved his hand dismissively. “It was the least I could do for startling you so,” he said, staring at her curiously. “What were you doing in the woods?” 

“I was reading. I lost track of the time and was trying to return home before dark.” She glanced up at the fading sun. “Seems as if I won’t accomplish that goal.” 

Rumplestiltskin watched her carefully, taking in her appearance. She was a lovely creature, with bright blue eyes and soft brown curls that cascaded past her shoulders. She wore a dark blue dress, the neck high with some elegant detailing trimmed in a lighter blue across the bodice. Her skirt was full but not overly so and swirled around her in the slight breeze. Her cloak was grey and worn, but still of a quality material. She wore little jewelry, small pearl earrings in her ears, and a small pearl drop necklace hung from her neck. Yes, she was lovely, Rumplestiltskin thought, and he had always been drawn to lovely things. 

“And what are you reading that caused you to get so caught up and forget the time,” he questioned and she held up the newly restored book so he could see the title. “ _The History of the Kingdoms and their Monarchs_ ,” he remarked, then gave her a strange look. “An odd choice, I must say.” 

She shrugged. “It was the only book in the history section I hadn’t read yet.” 

He raised his eyebrow at her remark, intrigued by this girl with the fine clothes and strange taste in books. “What is your name, girl?” He questioned and she tilted her head in defiance. 

“Why should I tell you my name, deal-maker?” She questioned and Rumplestiltskin’s eyebrow twitched. “I know who you are,” she continued. “You’re the Dark One. That hood over your eyes won’t fool me.”

Rumplestiltskin brought his hands together, clapping briefly in mock appreciation of her knowledge before speaking, “Clever girl,” he praised though his tone was high and mocking. He regarded her closely for another moment and then spoke again. “I hardly think it’s fair that you know who I am, but I do not know who you are.”

She ignored his statement and instead asked, “Why are you here?”

Humoring her, he countered, “Why do you think?”

“You only come when you are summoned, so the stories say.” 

So she’d read about him. He knew nothing else about this girl, though he had his suspicions as to her identity, but he was not surprised that the girl who was reading _The History of the Kingdoms and their Monarchs_ had read about him as well. 

“Your cleverness does you credit,” he teased again, then answered her. “Someone from the village wished to make a deal. When I was finished I decided to take a stroll through the woods before I returned home. And here we are,” he said gesturing between them. “Now,” he said, tiring of being generous and conversational, “Who are you?” 

She seemed hesitant to reveal her identity, but after a moment of inner debate, she stated, “I am Lady Belle of Avonlea.” 

“So you are Lord Maurice’s daughter,” He said, his suspicions confirmed. She was the only child of the Lord and future manager of the estate and village. 

She curtseyed gracefully. “I am,” she confirmed and Rumplestiltskin let out a delighted chuckle. 

“And just what is the daughter of a Lord doing out in the woods alone,” he asked menacingly, but Belle seemed unfazed by his tone. 

“It’s peaceful out here,” she said with an unladylike shrug. “I enjoy the solitude and it allows me to be completely focused on my reading.” 

“I’m sure,” he replied dryly and Belle regarded him for a moment before she shuffled her feet and said, “Well, I should get back. I’ve been gone longer than I meant to be so I’m sure my maid is going into hysterics trying to find me.” 

He bowed and stepped aside, allowing her to brush past him. After she had walked several steps she paused and turned back to him and offered him a small smile. “It was….nice to meet you,” she declared. “And thank you again,” she said, holding the book up momentarily before turning and rushing off in the direction of the castle. Rumplestiltskin watched her go until he could no longer make out her figure. When she was gone, he turned and began to wander back through the wood. The strange girl had been a nice diversion from his solitude and dark thoughts, but it was time to go home. 

-000-

The ogres were gaining ground, and men were growing more desperate. The lands to the north of Avonlea were suffering greatly and several troops had been sent to aid, leaving only a small reserve left to directly defend Avonlea. The people were beginning to grow fearful and some began making arrangements to flee the village and head south, away from the Ogres. Some of these people needed assistance in their preparations, which was what brought Rumplestiltskin back to the small village of Avonlea not three weeks after he’d first visited. Several families had called to make deals with him, promising things beyond their means, but Rumple obliged them, understanding their desperation to save their loved ones from the horrid outcome of the war. 

After dealing with such unpleasantness, Rumplestiltskin followed the path he had traveled the last time he had visited and made his way toward the wooded area. He wondered vaguely if the Lady Belle was there, then shook the thought away. Why should he care about that girl, lovely thing that she was? She was of no concern to him, yet she intrigued him and he was in the mood for a light diversion. He’d found himself thinking of her while he spun at his wheel and hoped that perhaps one more encounter would be enough for him to get her out of his thoughts. He had enough to do as it was without the distraction of a pretty girl. 

He entered the woods and traveled a short distance but she was nowhere to be found. A small part of him was disappointed, but he forced that feeling away and spinning around, he decided to leave. 

“Hello again.” 

He stopped in his tracks upon seeing the girl, standing before him and looking as beautiful as he remembered. She was dressed in a deep green dress that day and wore a matching cloak; a book clutched in her small, elegant hand. 

“Hello, dearie,” he stated nonchalantly as she stepped closer to him.

“What are you doing here?” She asked with curiosity and he crossed his arms in front of him. 

“Same as last time,” he remarked, “I go where I am summoned. Others from your village have called me.”

She hummed and nodded in understanding. “The wars are growing worse,” she explained as if he were not aware. “The people grow fearful as the Ogre’s progress. We are not yet desperate, but the war is beginning to take its toll.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded then asked, “If it is so bad, should you really be out here alone?”

Belle shrugged. “Probably not. But I can take care of myself. And besides, if anything happens now you’ll protect me.” 

Rumplestiltskin quirked an eyebrow, “Will I?” He asked and Belle nodded determinedly. 

“I think you would.” 

“Well, keep thinking that, dearie, if it makes you feel safer.” 

She smiled and took a step closer to him. “I was going to read, but I think some company would be much more rewarding. Will you walk with me?"

Rumplestiltskin tilted his head in thought. “And what will I get in return?” He teased, doing his best to hide his surprise that the girl seemed unafraid and at ease with him. He had been met with fear for so long that he’d forgotten the pleasure of making the acquaintance of someone not shivering in their boots. 

“Does everything have to be a deal with you?” She asked with a heavy sigh, laughing when Rumplestiltskin made a face. 

“Typically, yes,” he deadpanned and Belle giggled again as she stepped forward and linked her arm through his. 

“Then will my deepest gratitude suffice?” She asked with a charming smile. 

Rumplestiltskin tugged her arm slightly and began to walk further into the woods. He could not deny her now, even if he wanted to.

They made their way slowly through the wood, talking idly of Avonlea and the war. She asked about the deals her people were making and he informed her in very vague terms what deals he’d struck with her people. She seemed saddened but understanding and Rumplestiltskin delighted in her questions and curiosity, neither of which seemed to have an end. 

They circled around and exited the wood; after walking for a while they came upon the market. Belle tugged his arm, pulling him away and toward the edge of the square, using her free hand to pull her hood over her head once more. 

Offering her a humored look, Rumplestiltskin mused, “You do this often.” 

“I go out to the wood a few times a week,” she said. “I spend most of my time with Papa in the war room, listening to the men argue about battle strategy and rations and the growing debt the war is causing. Sometimes it gets to be too much and I sneak away for an hour or so to get lost in my own world. Preferably without Ogres.”

“The world is a better place without them,” Rumplestiltskin agreed. “They are vile creatures.” 

Belle hummed in agreement. 

They reached the castle, and Belle slid her arm from his grasp. Rumplestiltskin frowned at the loss of contact but made a point not to let the young girl see. She dipped into another curtsey and thanked him for seeing her back safely. 

“Don’t want you getting kidnapped by one of those foul beasts,” Rumplestiltskin quipped and gave her an exaggerated frown. “That would be most unpleasant.” 

Belle giggled. “I wouldn’t be much use for them,” she said.

“You’d make a fine snack for one of them, I’m sure,” he said sardonically and to his surprise she giggled again. 

“I doubt very much I’d make a good snack. I’ve heard nobles a little too dry for their tastes.”

His eyes widened and she laughed at his expression. He’d made the comment to shock her, but she had seemed unfazed by his words. Instead she countered him, leaving him speechless. 

When her laughing ceased she cleared her throat and glanced up at him, shyly this time. “I was thinking of venturing out to the woods the day after tomorrow. It would ease my poor nerves to know that someone was there with me, in case anything bad were to happen.” 

“Could one of your guards not escort you?” He asked, unaware of her meaning. 

Rolling her eyes she clarified, “They cannot be spared for me. And I would feel much safer if I had a Dark One to protect me from harm.” He thought he saw her wink, but brushed the thought aside. No one in their right mind would flirt with him. 

“I’m not a babysitter, girl.” 

She shook her head. “No, but you are an enjoyable companion; or you have been so far. We could make a deal, perhaps? I can read to you if you keep me company?”  


He was silent for a moment, wondering what this girl was planning. Surely she did not want to spend time with him for no reason. He refused to believe someone would actively seek it out. Still, he felt hope flutter in his bones and he held his hand out to her. “Deal,” he said. 

She shook his hand, told him when and where to meet her, then disappeared through a side door into the castle, leaving him alone to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into. 

-000-

He stood in the wooded area, waiting for Belle to arrive. He’d tried not to think about his agreement with the girl, but the more he’d pushed the thoughts away, the stronger they returned. He’d spent a good portion of the day before at his spinning wheel, trying to forget the girl’s sharp tongue and light, blue eyes. 

He had not been met with much success. 

Finally the time had come for him to meet her. He appeared in the forest where she’d said she’d be and waited. And waited. He began to grow impatient and then felt foolish for believing that she would actually come. He’d always been willing to believe words that came from a pretty face and he cursed himself for falling for it yet again. He decided to return to his castle and put all thoughts of the girl out of his head. It would be for the best. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” 

Surprised, he forced himself to turn slowly, and was met with a disheveled and breathless Lady. He arched an eyebrow in interest, trying to hide his pleasure and relief that she’d come and she allowed herself a moment to catch her breath before she explained. 

“I was held up by my father. He had some urgent business to discuss with me that could not wait. I’m sorry if I kept you waiting.” 

Rumplestiltskin waved his hand dismissively at her. “No matter,” he said, feigning disinterest. He was curious about what had held her up, but she seemed reluctant to speak of it, not offering more than that brief explanation to him. Deciding their time would be better spent distracted from the troubles of the world he waved his hand, producing a blanket and draped it over the forest bed. “Shall we sit?” He asked. “I believe you were going to read to me.” 

She smiled and he was pleased that he had been the one to bring out such a lovely feature. She knelt gracefully onto the blanket and he sat down cross legged in front of her, elbows resting on his knees. Placing his hands on his chin he gave her an impatient look. “Well? What did you bring?” 

She opened the book to the beginning and gave him a mischievous grin. “I thought I would read this,” she said, holding up a thick book of children’s stories. 

He gave her a quizzical look. “A children’s book?” He questioned and her smile grew wider. 

“It features some particularly terrifying stories involving the Dark One,” she said. “I thought you might shed some light onto what is fiction and what is reality.” 

“Trying to figure out the monster’s secrets, eh?” He questioned her teasingly. She rolled her eyes. 

“Dragons and Ogres are monsters,” she said firmly. “You are a man who happens to wield powerful magic.”

“Most would disagree with you in that,” he said softly. Did she not see him for what he truly was? 

“Well they are imbeciles at best,” she said. “You make deals with people. It isn’t your fault they don’t understand the deal they’re making.” 

He stared at her, wide eyed and speechless. He’d known this girl hardly a month and she’d done nothing but surprise and baffle him at every turn. She snuck away to read in the woods. She attended the war meetings with her father. She was kind. 

She enjoyed his company. 

He’d never met a more confusing, disorienting, and wonderful creature as the young woman sitting across from him and he was so glad he hadn’t returned home.  


She flipped a few pages and hummed in delight when she found the page she was looking for. “Now, I’ve always wondered about this one,” she said as if she were discussing something banal an uninteresting. “Surely this can’t be based on truth.”

“Most stories, no matter how outlandish, often contain a small grain of truth in them,” he argued, “But let’s hear your tale and I’ll disprove any falsities.”  
She giggled, lifted the book, and began to read. 

The story turned out to be more outrageous than he’d anticipated. By the time the tale was done, he sat aghast that such horrid tales had been spun about him. He knew he was feared by many, but the thought that he would skin a child alive and wear its pelt for a tunic made even his stomach turn. He may be the Dark One, but even his evil had its limits. 

Deciding to tease her, he smiled darkly and told her that he did in fact skin children alive and that the vest he was wearing had been from a particularly nasty child who had taken to spitting on his mother for sport. She looked at him hesitantly for a moment, unsure if she believed him and he laughed heartily before assuring her that the story was entirely false, but that it probably stemmed from the fact that he’d once been rumored to take children as part of his deals. 

True to her nature, she asked if that were true and he confirmed that he had dealt for babes before, but he’d also given the child to a deserving family who could better care for it than its birth parents. 

He did not tell her that he understood what it was like to lose a child and that he always wept when a child was offered as payment. He would hold the babe close for the time it was in his care and he would wish with all his heart that the child were his son, restored to him and safe from all harm. 

She seemed appeased that he made sure the children were not treated poorly and flipped to another tale the book had about the Dark One’s cruelty. He was relieved that the stories - all of them horrid, vile tales that had no place in a children’s book and the fact that they were cautionary tales be damned – were all untrue. He had no desire for this lovely young woman to think ill of him, and he was grateful that he was able to explain and justify and correct any fallacies the tales offered.  


Finally, she closed the book and sighed contentedly. “I’m so pleased to know you aren’t what the books say,” she said. “I never believed it for a moment.” 

“Then why did you want me to verify their accuracy?” Rumplestiltksin asked. She shrugged, a habit of hers, it seemed. “I have no qualms with faith,” she said, “But I feel much safer with facts. Knowledge and facts are much more valuable than the belief of a silly little girl.” 

Again, he could do nothing but be impressed by her. She was so intelligent, so practical. So lovely. 

“What about gold?” She asked suddenly, changing the subject. “They say you can make it out of straw. Is that true?” 

He nodded. “Indeed it is.” 

Her eyes seemed to light up in amazement. “That’s amazing,” she breathed. 

“I suppose,” he agreed. “It becomes less amazing over time.” 

She huffed good naturedly but smiled at him. He felt his cheeks grow hot and wondered absently if he could blush like a normal man and if so, could she tell? He didn’t have long to wonder for she looked up at the sky and frowned. “It’s getting late,” she sighed. “I should return.” 

He stood and offered her his hand. “I’ll walk you back,” he said cordially. 

She smiled as she rose to her feet. “Thank you, sir,” she said with a gentle laugh. She reached down to pick up the blanket, folded it, and handed it to him. He made it disappear with a wave of his hand and her eyes lit up with delight. “It’s so amazing,” she mused, “You must be able to do anything.” 

He offered her his arm and she took it warmly. “Almost anything,” he corrected. “But all magic comes with a price; which no one quite seems to understand nor care about when making a deal with me.” 

“Then they have no one to blame but themselves,” Belle declared. “If they do not understand what they are doing, they should not agree to it.” 

“Clearly you have never reached desperation,” he said and there was a sadness in his voice that he could not disguise. Belle squeezed his arm with her hand. 

“Let us hope I never reach that point,” she said, her voice distant. “Though I fear it may come to it.” 

He wanted to ask her what she meant, but the look on her face suggested she had no wish to speak of what haunted her thoughts and so he did not press her. 

-000-

“What’s all this?” 

She was sitting on a blanket with a basket in front of her, a beaming smile on her face. 

“I thought we could have a picnic,” she said as if it should be obvious. 

“A picnic,” he repeated dryly. 

“Mmm hmm,” she nodded excitedly, patting her hand on the empty space next to her. “Aren’t you going to join me?” 

He hesitated for several moments, unable to move. She gave him a puzzled look and reached her hand out to him. “Surely Dark Ones have to eat,” she said, trying to encourage him to sit. 

He pulled himself out of his surprise and sat down next to her. She seemed pleased that he chose to sit and began to reach into the basket and pull out various items. “Cook made this for the gathering we are to have tonight but I didn’t think she’d miss a few bits.” She offered him a small platter of sandwiches and he took one, taking a small, hesitant bite. 

She picked up one for herself and bit into it, reaching over with her free hand to pull out a small flask. She finished her sandwich and reached back in the basket to pull out two small, white teacups and poured the liquid from the flask into the cup. She offered him a cup and this time he did not hesitate to take it. He took a drink from the cup, surprised to find that it was tea. It wasn’t hot but still pleasantly warm and he sighed appreciatively. “The tea is quite good,” he said after he finished his cup. 

“Thank you,” she said happily. “I may not be able to cook, but I can make tea.” 

“Indeed you can,” he said, reaching over to pour some more tea into his cup. “It’s good to know you are skilled in something other than reading.” 

She scoffed and lightly slapped his arm. “I’ll have you know I am skilled in many areas,” she defended, “Including having manners.” 

Rumplestiltskin smirked and reached over to take another sandwich. 

“So who are you expecting tonight?” 

She shrugged. “Some nobles and knights from one of the neighboring kingdoms to discuss the Ogres.” She sighed softly. “I intend to be there and be involved, but I know that most of the conversation I’ll be a part of will include, ‘My dear girl, I’m not quite sure this is the proper place for a Lady to be,’ and ‘My Lady, I do not think you should concern yourself with all this war talk. It is best left to the men.’“ 

He chuckled. “I can tell this is a sore subject with you.” 

She nodded. “I suppose it is. I want to help my people but I can’t do much of anything.” 

“You can make tea,” he said with a sly grin, reaching down for his cup.

“Yes, and perhaps I can give the Ogres lessons in etiquette and tea brewing,” she teased in return. Rumplestiltskin laughed. He was surprised at how quick witted this girl was. He hadn’t had conversation like this is so long, he’d forgotten how much he’d missed it. “I just wish I could do something useful. Something that matters.”

“You’ll find a way to help your people,” he said encouragingly. “I remember the Ogre Wars from when I was younger. We had no one to care about our well-being. All the Duke cared about was securing more lads to be slaughtered. At least you want to help them rather than send their sons to their death.” 

She reached out and placed her hand on top of his free one. “I’ve been so worried over everything for so long,” she whispered, “Meeting you has been the best thing to happen to me.” 

He stared down at her hand on his and swallowed hard. He’d learned quickly that this strange girl was a tactile person, never hesitating to slip her arm through his when they walked. As with company, he was no longer used to someone touching him freely – and gently for that matter – and he simply gazed down at their hands before finally looking up to meet her eyes, stunned to realize that he considered this girl to be his friend. 

“It’s been an absolute pleasure,” he assured her, causing her to giggle. 

She removed her hand and began to pack up the remainder of their lunch. “I’ll have to head back soon,” she said solemnly. “Papa expects me to be there to greet the men when they arrive. It is my place to play hostess, after all.” She scoffed. “As if all that frivolity and nonsense matters while people are dying in the battlefields.” 

“You do not seem to enjoy the duties required of your position,” he observed, using magic to clean his teacup before handing it back to her. 

“I enjoy being with the people and helping them with issues that matter,” she clarified. “I could care less about knowing which spoon to use or whether to address someone as ‘My Lord’ or ‘Your Grace’. If we spent more time working on the issues regarding the war and less on not offending someone by calling them the wrong title, we would accomplish so much more.” 

“Quite the revolutionary speech, it seems,” Rumplestiltskin said, silently agreeing with her. He was powerful, but he could not care whether someone referred to him as the Dark One, the Spinner, or any number of the other names he’d been given over the years. He’d always felt disgusted with royalty – his association and partnership with Regina ensuring his opinion would never change – and he was pleased to know that within the courts of nobles that there was as much distaste for the lifestyle. He knew she did not begrudge her influence and abilities – she was much more equipped to help her people than if she were just a peasant girl – but knowing that she aspired for more action and less pomp and circumstance made his heart warm up to her even more. 

She stood and he joined her, taking the basket before she could pick it up. She gave him a curious look and he offered her his arm. “My Lady?” He asked. She grinned, something he quite enjoyed making her do, and took his arm. 

They walked slowly back to her home, both seemingly reluctant to leave the other’s company. He found he craved her presence the more he was in it, and he knew that although this could lead to nothing but heartache, he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. 

Judging by how closely she walked next to him, he wondered if she felt the same. 

-000-

They continued to meet, each encounter bringing them more joy than the last. She brought more books to read aloud and he brought her small trinkets and treasures that he’d gathered over the years as a dealmaker. 

Each time he offered her one -always something small and inconsequential so as not to raise any suspicion from her father or maid and certainly nothing magical – she would blush, declare she couldn’t possibly take such a wondrous gift, and after he insisted that he would not need it nor miss it, would she take the item gently from his hands and hold it with reverence, as if each present he gave her was something truly precious. 

On one particular day, he met her in their spot and she read to him.

She’d been concerned when she’d arrived, the Ogres gaining more ground and slowly but steadily making their way toward Avonlea. She had asked to read to take her mind off her worries and Rumplestiltskin had been more than happy to allow her to read the silly romance novel she’d brought with her. She’d blushed when she held it up, admitting she thought the book was utterly foolish, but she wanted something light to indulge in and he’d simply waved away her concern telling her that he would willingly listen to whatever she deigned good enough to read. 

He knew that probably meant every book every written, but if she agreed to read them all to him, he would ensure to collect every book from all the lands and place them at her feet. 

While she read, his mind wandered, not interested at all in the story, but enjoying the soothing sound of her voice. She reminded him of his spinning wheel; the sound steady, soft, and pleasant. It was something he could listen to for hours on end and never grow weary. His wheel had been a place of solace, a place where he could think as much or as little as he wished and he’d always been lulled to a peaceful and serene state by its constant creaking. Belle’s voice now carried him to that same place and he closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. 

He may bestow her with various trinkets from across the lands, but the fact that she allowed him to spend so much time in her presence was the greatest gift she could bestow upon him. 

She reached a stopping point in her book and it was only when he realized that he was surrounded by silence that he opened his eyes. She was watching him with slight amusement and he gave her a scowl. “I wasn’t sleeping, if that’s what you were thinking,” he said. 

She giggled. “I’m sure you weren’t.” 

The sun was getting low and she again declared that she had to return home. They linked arms and walked back to the castle, Rumplestiltskin asking her for information on the war. She told him what she knew and that the more the Ogres gained, the more likely she would not be allowed out of the castle. “Not that I’m really allowed now,” she said, making a slight face. “But I manage to sneak out anyway. I’ve been doing it for at least a year now. But it may prove more difficult. So if I do not show up on one of our meeting days, don’t think it’s for anything other than I simply couldn’t escape.” 

“I’m sure if you’re determined enough, you’ll find a way to get out,” he said in a teasing tone, but hoping within that she would do whatever she could to spend time with him. 

“If that’s a challenge, then I accept,” she countered, causing him to laugh. 

They reached the side door of the castle, the one she snuck in and out of and she made to let go of his arm. Before she could get away, he grasped her hand and she turned back to look at him. He tried to ignore the heat that surged through him, but could not ignore the faint blush on her cheeks. 

“I have something else for you,” he quickly informed her. 

“Rumplestiltskin,” she chided gently, “I don’t expect you to bring me something with every visit; I hope you know that.” 

“Of course I know,” he defended. “But I enjoy it.” 

“Very well,” she agreed. “What is my gift today?” 

He produced a small golden bracelet, braided intricately with several pieces of golden thread. He’d spun the gold the night before and spent a good portion of his earlier day braiding the threads into a design he deemed pleasing. 

She must have thought it pleasing as well for her eyes grew wide and she stared at the piece of jewelry with a look of awe. “Is this-“ She faltered as she reached out to touch it, “Did you make this?” She asked breathlessly. It was a simple piece compared to anything else someone of her station might wear, he knew, but he was nonetheless thrilled that she seemed so enamored with it. 

“I did,” he answered her softly. 

She glanced up at him. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “I’ll wear it always.” 

He helped her clasp it around her wrist, using a slight bit of magic to adjust it to fit properly. She admired it on her arm, then glanced back at the door. “I should probably get inside,” she whispered. “But I love it. Thank you so much.” 

He opened his mouth to tell her she was most welcome, but he was left speechless when she reached up and placed a quick kiss on his cheek before dashing inside the door. He stood there for some time, his hand pressed against his cheek, amazed at what had occurred. 

As he vanished back to his castle, he realized that their actions highly resembled what a couple did when they were courting. 

He found he was quite agreeable to that idea. 

-000-

They continued to meet in the wood, spending at least an hour in each other’s company. When Rumplestiltskin was not with her, he was dealing and working on finding his son, his efforts with Regina slowly falling into place. It wouldn’t be that much longer now, he thought, and he eagerly anticipated the day when he could travel to the land without magic to retrieve his son. 

But until that day came, he was still the Dark One, and there were still deals to be made. But no matter how many summons he received – and the number grew by the day - he always made time for the lovely Lady of Avonlea, whom he was quite sure he was now hopelessly in love with. 

They met several times a week, only having to postpone a few meetings when she simply could not get away long enough to see him without raising suspicion. Those days he loathed for he was unable to concentrate on anything but her and how long it would be until he would see her again. 

He enjoyed each and every encounter, savoring the moments. It mattered not what they did, whether to talk, read, or simply sit and allow her the peace and silence she could not find in the castle, surrounded by talks of war and Ogres. He especially enjoyed the moments, for there were more than one, when she would bestow a quick kiss on his cheek. She did it sparingly, but often enough that he strove to do things that pleased her enough to grant him a kiss. It was strange, being so carefree with her. Allowing her to touch him and kiss him and walk arm in arm as if he were a normal man. His wife had not loved him as a mere man. His fling with the woman he dare not name had been nothing more than a thirst for power on her part. She had not cared for the man either; nor had she cared for the Dark One. She had wanted the power, not the man who carried it. Belle, on the other hand, seemed content with both the Dark One who spun her bracelets of gold and used magic to fix her books as well as the simple man who stood frozen in surprised delight each time she pressed her lips to his cheek. 

He’d never felt so incredibly whole, finally at peace and content with both halves of himself. The man craved her goodness and innocence; the Dark One craved her fierce nature and determination to defy the rules set forth by her station. 

He was not supposed to meet her on this particular day, but he could not get her out of his head long enough to focus on even the simplest of tasks and so he decided he would check the forest to see if she were there. If so he would visit with her for a moment then return and get back to work. If not there, he would simply return and force himself to concentrate. 

He vanished from his work tower and appeared in the forest, near the area where they often met. He saw her sitting there and was pleased to her, but his delight quickly drained when he heard soft sniffles and sobs. 

She was crying. 

He made his way over to her but she did not notice him. He cleared his throat, hoping to alert her to his presence and she jumped in fright, her eyes growing wide when she realized he stood before her. She gasped and turned away, hastily wiping at her eyes and extracting a handkerchief from the pocket of her cloak to blow her nose. 

He kneeled down in front of her, concern etched on his features. “Belle?” He asked, “What is the matter?” 

She was silent a moment, and he knew she was forcing herself to calm down so she could speak to him plainly. Finally she took a deep breath and looked at him with pained, bloodshot eyes. “I’m engaged,” she whispered. 

He did not move, but he felt as if he’d been dealt a blow to the stomach. No sooner than she spoke the words did she resume crying again and he felt paralyzed. He had no idea how to comfort her; he did not know how to console himself. He could feel his heart, beaten and battered thing that it was, begin to crack again, the pieces fragile from the last time he’d offered it to someone. He knew this would only end in heartache for him and yet he’d pursued it anyway. He wondered if he would ever learn that he would never find anyone that would willingly, truly, be his. 

She quickly grew angry and growled in disgust. “Blast these tears!” She exclaimed suddenly, balling her hand into a fist. “It is not the worst thing in the world, surely,” she asked him, though she did not give him time to answer. “There are men out there dying and I’m sitting here blubbering like a child because my father decided to accept a man on my behalf.” 

She narrowed her eyes and Rumple knew she was not necessarily speaking to him, but she needed to get these thoughts off her chest and so he would remain silent and listen to her, and perhaps something in her words would give him an idea of what to say in return. 

“It’s not that I even dislike him,” she said, causing Rumple’s frown to deepen. “I certainly don’t want to marry Gaston, but I understand why father is doing this. He wants me to be safe and provided for, but surely there must be a better way than marrying that big lug.” She scoffed and continued, “I should be able to decide whom I marry and when. It shouldn’t matter that there is a war going on. What good is my marrying now going to do? If I produce a son it isn’t as if he can fight and by the time he could we may all very well be dead.” 

She looked at Rumplestiltskin then, her expression helpless and desperate. “Is it selfish that I want to marry for love? That I want someone I can actually depend on? Someone I can talk to and trust and who values me for more than my ability to produce sons?” She sighed. “Rumple, what do I do?” 

The name took him by surprise, no one having called him that in some time. Before, he’d not been fond of the nickname, but when spoken from her lips he found it quite pleasant. He did not know what to say to console her so instead he reached forward and drew her into his arms, allowing her to throw hers around his shoulders. 

“I haven’t the slightest, my dear,” he said after a while. “I can only tell you that you deserve to marry whom you wish and it should not be your father’s decision.” 

She laughed bitterly into his neck. “Perhaps you can give him a stern talking to?” She said, half joking. He wondered if she knew he would do it if she asked him. He was ready to do anything for her.

He chuckled and allowed his hand to gently rub and down her back. “If you wished it, I would do it.” 

She pulled away and offered him a smile. It did not quite reach her eyes, but it was a start. “No,” she said softly. “Father is doing what he thinks is best. It was only brought to my attention today. We will not wed until later on in the year, depending on how the war goes. Perhaps by then I can talk some sense into him.”

“Perhaps,” Rumplestiltskin agreed. 

She reached out with the hand that was not holding the handkerchief and squeezed his. “I’m not sure what brought you here today,” she said, “But I’m so glad you came. It’s been nice having someone to talk to about all this. I truly don’t know what I would do without you."

Without truly thinking, he turned his hand underneath hers and laced their fingers together. “Nor would I without you.” 

This time when she smiled, he could see it in her eyes and he decided he would do anything to ensure that smile never faded again. 

-000-

They continued to meet, and when the war grew so that she could only sneak out once a week, they took to writing letters. It was a strange way to communicate, both of them so used to being with the other, but Belle was grateful for it nonetheless. He provided her with magic paper that would send itself to the destination written upon it and they wrote to each other several times a day. 

Finally, the war causing them to go over two weeks without seeing one another, they met in the woods and Belle wrapped him in a tight embrace when she saw him. “Oh, it’s wonderful to see you!” She exclaimed, laughing out right when he put his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. 

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, then stepped back but kept her arms at his shoulders. His remained at her waist. “I’m sorry it’s been so long,” she said sadly. “Papa has become so worried. He hardly lets me leave his side anymore. He fears the Ogres will break through the hold we’ve established at any moment.”

She gave him a small smirk. “I would tell him not to worry, that I’ll be safe in the presence of the Dark One but I somehow think that would cause him more grief. He’s quite a believer in all those stories.” She wrinkled her nose. “He’d probably be convinced you’d skin me alive!” 

She laughed and he couldn’t help but smile at her silliness. Despite the growing strains of the war she was determined to remain cheerful and he was pleased that he could help her find some happiness. 

He wondered if she knew just how happy she’d made him. He’d been wandering in the dark for so long he’d forgotten what it was to see the sun and now he found that he longed for the light she produced. She was the sunrise to his endless nights. She was the water to his dying soul and the balm to his aching heart. He realized all too well that he was falling in love with her, and that he could not bear to be apart from her. 

He’d sworn to love nothing and no one until he’d found his son. Then he’d had his brief affair with the miller’s daughter, and now he found that his heart beat and ached for Belle. He was a fool, he decided. But he was a happy fool and he would not give that up for the world. 

She her smile faded after a moment and glanced up hesitantly at him. “Would you think less of me if I admitted that I’m afraid? Of the Ogres I mean.” 

He shook his head. He knew what it was to be hated for being afraid and he would never think less of her. “I was afraid of them, too,” he admitted. 

“But you’re the Dark One!” She exclaimed. “What have you to be scared of?” 

“I wasn’t always the Dark One,” he admitted. “I was once a normal man who feared many things.” 

“Do you fear them now?” She asked and her sincerity and innocence compelled him to answer truthfully. 

“Some things still, yes.” He admitted. “I can do many things with magic, but I cannot make myself brave.” 

“I think you’re brave,” she whispered. 

“You are far braver than I,” he argued softly, taking the slightest step closer to her. “You sneak away from the safety of your castle to sit alone in the forest with a monster. You seem to be afraid of nothing.” 

“There are no monsters in these woods,” she whispered. “Especially when you are here. I enjoy being with you. You make me feel safe. You make me happy. You make me feel-“ She trailed off and her eyes lowered to his lips and back up. He squeezed her closer to him, leaning his head down ever so slightly. 

“Feel…what?” He encouraged, his voice barely audible. 

She did not answer, but instead raised her lips up just enough so that they were but a breath away from his. They lingered, eyes open watching the other carefully. Rumple breathed heavily, and spoke her name, more a caress than a whisper. 

Then she touched her lips to his and he was undone. 

He swept her up in his arms, lifting her off the ground and holding her as close to him as he could, their lips moving languidly together. It was slow and deep and he moaned when she nipped lightly at his bottom lip. He returned the gesture and her response was to thread her fingers through his hair, holding his mouth firmly against her own. 

He could not let her go, not even air tempting enough to draw him away from her lips. They kissed for an age, lips moving and pressing and he knew within his heart that this was everything he could ever want. He need not use his own magic ever again for he could survive and thrive off the power he felt stirring between them. It was overwhelming, palpable and true, and he kissed her more passionately for it. 

Finally they broke away, but only just so. His eyes remained closed, afraid if he opened them he would find himself alone in his castle and all of this would just be a fool’s dream. He felt her breath ghost against him and heard her let out a slight laugh. 

He opened his eyes then and felt the purest elation when he saw her looking at him lovingly. She moved her hand to stroke his cheek and he nuzzled against her palm.

“Wonderful,” she breathed, catching him off guard. 

“What?” He asked, his voice just as breathless as hers. 

“I feel wonderful,” she declared, reaching up to press her lips against his again in a quick kiss. He sighed when she pulled back, keeping his hands around her small frame so she could not move away. 

“What about your fiancé?” He asked, hating himself for bringing up the cursed man after what they’d just shared. 

She shook her head. “I’m going to find a way out of that,” she said confidently. “No one decides my fate but me.” 

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” He asked, truly in awe of her. She declared that she was the master of her own fate; that she would not submit to the will of anyone else, and yet she chose to remain in his arms, to welcome his touch and his kiss. 

She gave him a proud smirk. “Would you tell me again?” She asked and he gave her a wicked grin. 

“Gladly,” he growled as he pressed his lips firmly to hers again, reveling in the feel of her pressed close to him; of her lips meshing with his and his tongue twining with hers. They said little else the rest of their time together, content to simply explore each other with lips and tongue and hands, his hesitant and careful, hers eager but unpracticed. By the time he walked her back to the castle, her lips were red and swollen and her cheeks flushed. He personally thought it was a lovely color on her. 

-000-

Whereas before they’d met in secret to simply relax and escape the demands and frustrations of their lives, now they met with the intent of distract themselves from such troubles by engaging in more pleasant activities. The first time they met after their first kiss, she’d apologized for being clumsy and inexperienced. “I’ve never kissed anyone before,” she said. “So I hope I didn’t do anything wrong. Reading about these things is much different than actually experiencing them.”

He chuckled. “I only hope the experience was more enjoyable than simply reading about it.” 

She pressed her lips to his. “Much more enjoyable.” 

From then on, whenever they met, which continued to be less frequent than they wished, she would rush into his arms and welcome him with a delighted kiss. They would remain that way for some time, kissing softly and slowly, knowing that they only had so much time before they would be parted. Sometimes they would walk and she would wrap her arms around his and press her side as close to him as possible; other times they would sit, fingers intertwined and her head resting on his shoulder. It was the most exquisite feeling, having her so close and so willing. 

But despite their growing happiness, he could see a shadow spreading under her eyes. They only met once a week now, though they continued to write each other regularly, and he knew – now that he was keeping up with the events of the war more closely – that Avonlea could not withstand much more from the Ogres. She was growing weary and anxious and he found himself visiting her realm more often to make deals with her people than he did to see her. 

He knew he wanted to help her, but he was bound by the laws of magic and could not do something so great as simply stop the Ogres without a great price. He had no need of riches or gold, and he knew not what else he could ask for. And he loathed to strike a deal with his dear Lady. She was the only one who had never truly asked anything of him other than his company and he had no desire to simply turn their relationship into another deal struck. 

He ran all possibilities through his mind, but he could not think of a solution. That changed one day when he appeared in the woods just as Belle was rushing in, her eyes red and dark and her cheeks stained with tears. “The Ogres have broken through the hold,” she said in lieu of her usual greeting. “It’s only a matter of time now.” 

She collapsed into his arms and began to cry and he knew he was the only one who had seen her tears. “Oh, Rumple what can we do? There must be something we can do.”

He stroked her hair in an effort to calm her while he thought. Suddenly, as if a veil had been lifted from his mind, he had his solution. It was perfect. 

“I have an idea,” he declared, suddenly knowing exactly what needed to be done. 

“I’d love to hear it,” she replied, her tone desperate yet hopeful. 

“Summon me.” 

She pulled back, confusion causing her brow to furrow. “What?” 

“Convince your father to summon me,” he repeated. 

“Are you going to make a deal with him?” She asked in surprise.

He gave her a mischievous grin. “Something like that.” 

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He chose not to answer her, instead supplying a question of his own. “Will you accept my price, whatever it is?” 

Again, she gave him a confused look. “I thought you were going to make a deal with my father?” 

“All the same, I’d like to know that you are willing as well.” 

She sighed wearily. “Of course I am, Rumple. I think I understand now why people tell you they will give you anything. Right now I’m willing to do the same. But can you not give me a clue as to what you’re planning?” 

He shook his head. “Just have him summon me. I’ll take care of everything else.”

She tried to speak, clearly having more questions but he silenced her with a deep kiss and she sighed contentedly in his embrace. When they separated, he let go of her and urged her to the edge of the wood. “Write to me when he agrees and I’ll come within three days.” 

She wanted to ask him more questions, he could tell, but instead kissed him quickly, offered him a kind smile, and ran to the castle. He watched her go, unable to contain his glee. He vanished back to his castle, intent on preparing for his meeting with Belle’s father. 

After preparations were made, he paced the workroom, wondering what was taking so long. He hadn’t thought it would take this long, but he’d been waiting for at least half a day for her response and he wondered if her father had simply refused to call on him. He would feel the magic when it went through, but he had felt nothing. He began to fret when, much to his relief, a letter appeared on his desk. He grabbed it the moment it was fully tangible and read the contents hastily, grinning in relief to find that her father was going to send a summons first thing the next morning. He laughed, the sound light and jovial, and he checked once more that everything was ready for when he would obliterate the Ogres. 

After ensuring everything was in place, he retreated to his spinning wheel, set on calming his racing thoughts. He wished her father would summon him already, but he could not appear until he was called. He fell into the rhythm of spinning and after some time he lost himself in the calming effect. Finally as dawn rose to light the room, he felt the shiver of magic cover him and a letter appeared at his feet. It was from her father, the Lord Maurice sending an official request to make a deal with the Dark One and that in exchange for his services, a large sum of gold would be provided. 

He smirked, brandishing his most elaborate waistcoat. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. He’d not felt the need to act the showman in front of Belle before; something about her presence seemed to calm him and remind him of the man he’d once been, but this was a deal and he was the deal maker after all. And he wanted very much for her to see him in action. 

He picked up the letter and summoned his magic to take him back to Avonlea and back to Belle. 

It was show time. 

-000-

Belle was beginning to worry. It was the evening of the third day they’d made their deal and still Rumplestiltskin had not come. Her father had sent the summons the day before and she wondered if perhaps he’d changed his mind. Surely he would have been kind enough to send her a letter if that were the case. 

She’d written him that morning to tell him that the Ogres had advanced even further than expected and that they were running out of time. Now she stood in the war room with her father, Gaston, and several other men, one of whom was telling Maurice that Avonlea had officially succumbed to the Ogres. 

Maurice’s face fell, the color draining along with it and he collapsed into his chair. Belle knelt at his feet, encouraging him that perhaps the Dark One was on his way at that very moment. 

She said it as much for her own comfort as his. 

He declared the situation hopeless and she felt her chest constrict. Surely Rumplestiltksin hadn’t led her on? She cared so deeply for him and it hurt to think that he had abandoned her in this way. 

There was a loud, hard knock on the door and everyone jumped. She stood and her father rose with her. She wondered aloud if perhaps it was him. She hoped deeply that it was and her father ordered the guards to unbar and open the large wooden doors. They did so and she felt grave disappointment when there was no one there. 

“Well, that was a bit of a letdown.”

She whirled around and had to fight to keep her smile hidden as she laid eyes on Rumplestiltskin, sitting proudly in her father’s chair, looking every bit the creature her stories warned her about. 

Her fiancé pulled out his sword and pointed it in Rumplestiltskin’s face, and Belle watched with curiosity and interest as Rumple simply slapped the blade away as if it were nothing. 

She listened in silence as her father and Rumplestiltskin discussed the terms, Maurice declaring that they were willing to pay with gold. 

“Now you see I, uh, _make_ gold,” he sneered, barring his teeth. “What I want is something a bit more…special,” he hissed, looking straight at Belle. He raised his hand to point directly at her, making sure Lord Maurice know just what he was indicating. “My price is her.” 

She flushed, but then her excitement turned to annoyance as her father and Gaston immediately pushed her behind them, Gaston declaring that she was engaged to _him_. 

Rumplestiltskin proclaimed he cared not about that; he had no interest in love but merely sought out a maid for his castle. She almost missed the wink he tossed her way while her father demanded the imp leave. Rumplestiltskin turned then and make his way slowly toward the door and she realized this was his plan. He wasn’t going to bargain for her. He was giving her the choice, though to some it may not seem like much of one. He wanted her to go with him, and he would rid the land of the Ogres. He was making it so that she was a hero; giving herself up for her people’s lives. She’d wanted to help them and this was how she would do it. By making a deal with the Dark One. 

She’d wished he’d talked to her about it first; she wished she did not have to play the part for her father, but she felt a thrill of excitement rush through her. He wanted her, despite all his talk of needing a caretaker. He wanted her to go with him and he was giving her the choice. Her father had said no, but as she’d told Rumplestiltskin one night in the woods, no one decided her fate but her. Even if the Ogres had not been a factor, her decision was an easy one. 

“No, wait!” She called out and Rumplestiltskin could not hide the grin that spread across his face. She pushed past the two men who were guarding her and approached him slowly, excitement and anticipation running through her veins. 

“I will go with him,” she declared simply. 

He seemed as surprised as everyone else, but his shock was overlooked as the rest of the room instantly began protesting and she whirled around to face them, declaring that no one chose her fate but her. Rumplestiltskin seemed to accept the concept; why could no one else? 

He reminded her that it was forever, and he clarified that everyone would live – family, friends, the villagers and soldiers on the field. She wanted no more casualties and he gave her his word that no more blood would be shed. She gave her word in return. 

Again her father protested, calling Rumplestiltskin a beast and she bit her tongue to keep from speaking out. It was best they did not know the truth. Not yet.  


She told them firmly that she had made her choice and she couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through her when Rumplestiltskin was suddenly right behind her, declaring with an impish lilt that the deal was struck. She waited a moment, gave her father a hug and bid him goodbye. Rumplestiltskin placed his hands on her waist and turned her to walk out of the room. Her face remained neutral, but out of the corner of her eye she could see that Rumplestiltskin was positively beaming.  


The doors slammed shut behind them – she did not know if that was by his design or her father’s – and she took a deep breath. She had done it. 

They walked outside, Rumplestiltskin leading her with his hand still pressed to the small of her back. They walked toward the forest where they had spent so much time together and when they reached it, Belle paused.

“When are you going to do it?” She asked. He gave her a quizzical look and she clarified, “Stop the Ogres.” 

“Oh,” he said dismissively, “I took care of them before I arrived at your castle.”

She stared at him with wide eyes. “What?” 

“Your father should be receiving a message any moment that the Ogres are gone. The war is over.” 

“J-Just like that?” She stuttered and he gave a simple nod. “But,” she said, “You didn’t know that I would agree to go with you. My father could have stopped me. I could have said no. Why did you do it before you even knew your deal would be accepted?” 

“Because I love you.”

Her eyes were wide as she took in his words. He swallowed thickly, hoping deeply that he hadn’t been mistaken and that she returned his feelings. He would not go back on their deal if she did not, but he knew he would not survive her rejection. He loved her too deeply to be able to live without her and if she wished to return to her father at once he would let her go with no repercussions. 

“Oh, thank the gods; I love you too!” She exclaimed breathlessly, causing him to start. 

“You do?” He asked in disbelief. He could not keep the grin from forming on his face as she nodded happily, laughing as she did so. 

“I do,” she repeated. “I love you. I love you so very much.” 

He knew not what to say, words seeming terribly insufficient at the moment, so he gathered her into his arms and kissed her hard, pressing his mouth to hers and running his tongue across her lips. He felt her hands in his hair, scratching gently and tugging on his curls, trying to bring him closer to her. 

He thought briefly of whisking her off to his castle, longing for nothing more than to kiss her senseless and ravish her with his love, but she was a proper lady, and even in his most brazen and desirous state, he could not allow himself to do anything more to tarnish her already stained reputation. 

He knew, in the part of his mind that was not preoccupied with her kisses, that Belle’s decision to go with him – caretaker or not – would forever leave her tainted. She was a willing associate of the Dark One and no good ever came to those who chose to consort with him. 

Knowing what he needed to do– and wanted to do and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about doing since she’d first kissed his cheek – he pulled away, only far enough so that he could properly speak and whispered huskily, “Marry me.” 

He felt her breath fly from her and her wide eyes lifted to meet his. 

“What?” She asked, her voice as soft as his. He could tell by her expression that she was stunned. 

He reached down and grasped one of her hands in his. “Marry me,” he repeated. “If you would be so kind, that is.” 

She gazed into his obsidian eyes, and for a brief moment he felt sure that she was reading him as thoroughly as one of her books. He was asking far too much of her, he knew. She hardly knew him; knew next to nothing about his son and the agony he’d suffered over the years being without him. She didn’t know about Regina or the curse. She hardly knew him yet he’d never felt so close nor longed to be so open with someone. He found he wanted to share those things with her; he knew it would be best to explain everything before she truly bound herself to him, so that she could run if she so chose, but something in him knew that no matter what horrors of his life he shared with her, she would stand firm. 

And he loved her all the more for it. 

He was still waiting for her answer and finally, she squeezed the hand that held hers and brushed her lips against his. “Yes. “Yes of course!” she breathed, laughing happily when Rumplestiltksin let out a jubilant shout and wrapped her up in his embrace, kissing her hungrily. 

“Oh, Belle,” he whispered as held her close to him. “Thank you. _Thank you_.”

“You didn’t have to put on such a show, though.” She scolded. “Had you merely asked me to go with you, I would have said yes.” 

“I thought you should get something out of it,” he informed her. “Creating the spell needed to rid the land of the Ogres is nothing compared to what you’re giving me in return.” 

“You underestimate yourself,” she declared. “You love me. I love you. I need no more incentive than that.” 

“Oh, Belle,” he breathed again, moved by her words. He kissed her gently, and she sighed against his lips. 

“Take me home?” She asked as she pulled away from him, offering him a coy smile. 

“As my lady wishes,” he replied, sweeping his body low in a formal bow. “You shall have the world, if you wish it,” he declared. 

She laughed and reached out to take his hands. “That’s all very well,” she said lovingly, “But I’m more than happy with you.”

He kissed her again as they disappeared, and her contented sigh echoed throughout the lands, a whisper of peace billowing in the wind.


End file.
